Tonight, as I prayed with Q, I said, “…and please help him to grow up to be strong and to know that You love him all the time…”
“yeah, and make him eat broccoli,” interjected Q.
I paused, collecting myself, “Are you asking God to make you eat…broccoli?” I asked, seriously.
“Yeah. You always say broccoli makes you grow up to be strong, and I never eat it, and I think I wont be strong since I hate broccoli,” he explained.
And that, my friends, is why being a mother is rewarding. I haven’t showered today, but I’ve been surprised. And amused.
This reminds me of another Sunday incident. I was showing the boys the latest OK GO video, where the band members drive around in a car and the car hits pianos, wind chimes, etc. with retractable arms. There is a scene where the car’s retractable arms are whacking a long line of blue barrels, for percussion purposes. Q asked what they were and I innocently remarked, “They’re barrels.”
“Oh. Barrels like pirates use to make rum?,” asked my four year old.
“Yes. Exactly,” I said, because I am a stinker.
“So, did they get the barrels from some pirates then?” he asked.
Feeling like an affirmative would be overstepping the boundaries of truth in advertising, I said, “It’s possible I guess, but I don’t think so. You can use barrels for other things if you’re not a pirate, they aren’t just for making rum.”
He seemed disappointed. I made a mental note to thank Robert Louis Stevenson for referring to rum so frequently in Treasure Island. It’s conversations like this that make literature so much fun.